She managed a small grin. “I’m learning about the fine line between taking care of oneself and looking for trouble,” she agreed. “Tonight was definitely looking.”
“I’m just glad you’re not hurt.” Jake shuddered, as if envisioning the attack. “So how did you get away?”
Gaia’s features darkened, and she trembled again. “It was Lo—I mean, it was Oliver, I guess. He just appeared out of nowhere and scared the creeps off. He had a gun.” A troubled glance crossed her face. “He’s Still fol1owing me. I can’t believe he’s totally ignoring the fact that I asked him to stop.”
“Wait a minute,” Jake cut in, taking in her wary expression. “So you’re being held at knifepoint, and your uncle comes up and pretty much saves your life—and you’re angry? Gaia, I know you’ve been on edge lately—certainly getting shaken up more easily than I’m used to—but come on. Can’t you cut him some slack? I mean, based on what you’re telling me, it sounds like you could have been seriously hurt if he hadn’t shown up when he did, right? I hope you didn’t give him a hard time.”
Gaia looked away for a moment. “I ran away,” she said curtly, without meeting Jake’s gaze. She couldn’t look him in the eye.
“You ran away? For chrissake, why?”
She heard the annoyance in his tone—it would have been pretty impossible to miss—and felt a brief flicker of anger herself. “Listen, you weren’t there, okay?” she said. “I sort of freaked, I know. But… I have to tell you, I don’t trust him.” She could tell that the edge in her voice wasn’t winning her any points with Jake.
“I know you don’t trust him, Gaia. We all know you don’t trust him” Jake said sarcastically. “And I know there are gaps in my understanding of your history with him. But I gotta tell you, until you fill me in on the whole do, I’m going to continue thinking that you’re taking this old grudge too far.”
“And I have to tell you that you don’t know anything about it, Jake,” Gaia argued, her voice rising. “I know you think that just because we went on one rescue mission together, you understand the whole cloak-and-dagger aspect of my life, but believe me when I say that was just the tip of the iceberg.” She softened her tone, hoping to convince him through the sheer weight of her emotion. “It’s true, he’s apologized over and over again and gone out of his way to win back my loyalty. And that has to count for something. It does count for something “she corrected herself. “That’s why I forgave him, why I was willing to give him a second chance.
“But you don’t know him like I do. And when Oliver starts acting suspiciously, well… you have to be suspicious. Oliver helped to save my father, sure, but he can’t really take back the things he’s done over the years or make up for them. And even when I’m trying to rebuild my trust for him, it’s hard to take him back into my life, no questions asked. I can’t just let my guard down completely. Too much has happened. And frankly, when I feel like a member of my own family is stalking me, I can’t help but be concerned.” Her anger was mounting. “If you knew the things that I know, Jake, you’d get it. Because it’s not just my own safety at stake. When Oliver gets close to me… he hurts the people I care about.”
And that includes you, okay? she thought. He killed my mother, he hurt my father, he kidnapped Sam, and he went after Ed. You do the math. I know I forgave him, hut if there’s even the remotest chance that he’s defected back to the dark side, then I’m going to have to he on the offensive. I’m not prepared to fall for his lies again just to watch him add you to the list of casualties. Until she was ready to give Jake the full story, though, she’d have to keep that to herself. Which meant she’d have to risk allowing him to think she was overreacting.
Jake’s features were set in a stony mask of disapproval, a scowling gargoyle glaring down at her. His arms were folded unrelentingly across his chest. It was clear that the gravity of her warnings was eluding him. Fighting alongside Oliver had obviously made Jake feel like the last action hero and had engendered a misguided sense of loyalty.
Great. Not only was her boyfriend not going to console her, but he was pretty much defecting to the enemy’s camp. Simply put, Jake wasn’t seeing Gaia’s viewpoint at all. This fear thing was proving to be fun for the whole family.
Gaia sighed and turned to go. She hated leaving things unresolved, but really—what more was there to say?
“I’m sorry, Jake, that you don’t understand how I feel about my uncle. But to be honest, I hope you never get to the point where you do.” She kissed him quickly on the cheek and quietly showed herself the door.
Suckiness
GAIA FUMED AS SHE LOPED UP THE stairs of the Christopher Street station two steps at a time. The regular, normal-girl part of her that liked having a boyfriend and seriously liked Jake hated the conversation that they’d just had and couldn’t stand that they hadn’t been able to talk things out. But the other Gaia, the Gaia who had lived fearlessly through seventeen years, understood that Stickiness was her destiny. The stars were obviously aligned against her, and no amount of genetic mutation would change that. With all this fear coursing through her veins, she was entirely unstable but still incapable of doing whatever it was that other teenage girls did. It would have been funny if it weren’t so pathetic.
Still, she had allowed herself the slightest bit of hope that Jake would give her the benefit of the doubt, that he’d acknowledge that when it came to Oliver, at least, Gaia had the goods, that perhaps her judgment was to be trusted. He was her boyfriend, right? He was supposed to be on her side. Wasn’t he?
Thoughts this dour required an immediate sugar fix. Ice cream was the key, Gaia decided. She paused on Seventh Avenue and darted into the Häagen-Dazs, a blast of cold air greeting her as she ducked in. Surveying the dazzling array of flavors, she wasted no time in ordering a single-scoop cone of chocolate-chocolate chip.
“Two thirty-nine,” the sour-faced attendant barked at her from underneath his brown-striped visor, not bothering with even a glance in her direction. He’d been deeply engaged in conversation with an acne-scarred stock boy and clearly resented the interruption. He rang up Gaia’s purchase and dropped her change into her palm with a scowl. Unfazed, Gaia ignored his total lack of manners and dove in, shoving the door open with her hip. A surly cashier was no reason to waste a perfectly good ice-cream cone.
Striding back in the direction of the boarding-house and struggling to avoid an ice-cream headache, Gaia turned her thoughts back to Sam. He had been the one to first notice that Oliver might be reverting to his evil alter ego, Loki, and he had immediately come to warn Gaia. She flushed with the memory. At the time she had been concerned that Sam was looking for excuses to talk to her, maybe trying to rekindle their romance. Sure, he had told her that he needed to move on, to get her out of his life, and she didn’t blame him—she was sure that every time he looked at her, he must be reminded of his horrifying kidnapping—but then he kept turning up. And no matter how she felt about Jake, it was impossible to deny her lingering connection with Sam. After all, they shared the type of history most people never knew.
Of course, maybe he was legitimately worried. He, of course, would know better than anyone what Loki was capable of when he was carrying out a vendetta. One thing she was certain of now: Sam knew how Gaia felt about her uncle, and he’d never prey on herfears in a sleazy attempt to reconnect with her. If he was worried, there was probably good reason for it.
She fished her cell phone out of her pocket and called up her phone book. Sam’s new number was the third entry. She scrolled through her negligible directory until his name appeared on the screen. Her fingers hovered over the call button, hesitating.
Gaia was so frustrated. Why would her own boyfriend refuse to see her side of things? Why couldn’t he just take her word for it? Was Sam truly the only person who understood Gaia intrinsically? Was she fated to live mired in the past, unable to bond with someone who hadn’t lived through the horrors of her life with her? Did this mean that Jake would
never understand her? That she could never move on?
It figured.
She stopped in front of a newspaper dispenser, seeing that the latest free Village Voice had been distributed. She could use a little left-wing polemic to lighten the load of the day she’d had. Whatever. She’d go back to the boardinghouse, crash, maybe read some hipper-than-thou movie reviews, and put this whole encounter out of her mind. She leaned forward and reached into the dispenser, grabbing a paper from the top of the stack, slamming the door shut, and straightening again.
Wham! “Hi, pretty girl,” a face murmured, hovering without warning mere inches from her own, dry lips stretching across yellowed teeth. “Can I have one, too?”
It was a random homeless man—totally common for New York City and especially common on a random Village street corner. She knew, without looking, that the streets weren’t completely deserted, that there were any number of corner markets where she could quickly seek solace if she were truly concerned. But this man was no threat. Possibly lacking a screw or two, definitely in desperate need of a toothbrush, but not dangerous. She knew all of this reflexively.
It didn’t matter. She jumped, shrank back from his probing hands, and without a word turned and fled.
Though she tried her best to keep her pace even, she retreated pretty damn quickly. She practically ran.
She practically ran like a girl.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Re: Oliver
Sam—
I know we talked about your needing to start a new life, on your own, and I don’t blame you for needing some distance from me. When I think about the dangers I involved you in, I don’t have the words to apologize. So I will let you move on, but I need to tell you one thing: I think you were right. About Oliver, that is. I think he’s… losing control. I think Loki is coming back. And I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I’ll do if—
[delete]
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Re: Fear
Ed—
I won’t even bother to pretend that I didn’t just freak out in the hospital with you. There’d be no point, since for some strange and totally irritating reason you always seem to be able to see right through me. And since you can read me anyway, I figure I might as well tell you what was going on with me in that room. What’s been going on with me, how I may have made a huge mistake, and now suddenly I am fearful of every creak on the staircase—
[delete]
questionable genetic mutation
Jake was obviously more partial to a contrite and touchy-feely Gaia than to a stubborn, hard-ass Gaia.
Internal Monologue
“YOU ARE GOING TO LOVE ME,” KAI proclaimed, taking a bright pink vinyl messenger bag off her shoulder, setting it down on one of the uncomfortable molded plastic chairs reserved for hospital visitors, and producing from within it a monster-sized chocolate chip cookie. She leaned across the bed and handed it to Ed. “Courtesy of Taylor’s. Since I know the hospital food was starting to get you down,” she explained. “And we have to keep your strength up.”
“Excellent. But what will you eat?” Ed teased. The cookie was easily big enough to feed three people. He broke off a hunk and chewed blissfully.
“This may be your last chance for rebellion against the hospital diet” Kai mused aloud. “Seeing as how you’re going to be sprung tomorrow.” She seemed as thrilled about it as Ed was, if that were possible.
“We should enjoy this while it lasts” Ed agreed. “You roc. You’re like a crazed escape artist or something, ditching school and smuggling contraband junk food into the hospital. I’m leading you into a life of crime. I’m bringing you down.”
“I’ll be Bonnie to your Clyde, no problem. I live for danger” Kai assured him.
Ed grinned through a mouthful of chocolate. With her graphic T-shirt and oversized lavender cords, Kai didn’t look particularly dangerous, but he was willing to play along. After all, he was genuinely glad that although they’d agreed not to date, he and Kai really could be friends. He still felt a little bit guilty that he hadn’t been able to be a true boyfriend to her. Apparently he was so lame that he was still sort of semi-pining over Gaia, but shockingly, Kai had been totally understanding, and their breakup had been refreshingly drama free. One more reason why he was a total freak not to be with her. But it was okay. He was just glad that they could still enjoy each other’s company. Jokes about killer couples on the lam had much more to do with her low-key attitude than with any lingering feelings for him, he was sure. He nudged a piece of cookie at Kai, but she refused it.
“I just ate,” she protested. “Anyway, it’s for you.”
Ed frowned. He couldn’t get used to Kai’s birdlike appetite. Sure, he had dated Heather Gannis, and she and her cronies had practically been born on the South Beach Diet, but lately he’d been spoiled by women with heartier appetites.
Woman, Fargo. One woman.
He tried to push the thought out of his mind, but it was true. There was one woman he knew with the ability to outeat a trucker, and despite the fact that Kai was beaming amicably at him with electric-blue-rimmed eyes, he couldn’t get that one woman out of his mind.
Gaia.
Was he destined to live out his days like this, impossibly hooked on a girl he couldn’t have? He and Gaia had been friends—best friends—and then more than friends, and here they were, things more awkward than ever. She’d gotten back together with her ex, Sam, or so Ed had thought (she swore they weren’t involved, but it didn’t take a genius to read the way they looked at each other), and now she was clearly being courted by Jake Montone. And she didn’t seem to mind one bit.
Ed wished he could believe that the only reason Gaia was on his mind was because she had been acting so strange lately. The last time she visited him, she was skittish, practically afraid of her own shadow—not at all the kick-ass chick he’d fallen in love with. And she had seriously wigged when he mentioned Heather’s visit from the CIA. So much so that he’d refrained from ever following up with her, which was a direct violation of their no-BS policy. He himself wasn’t convinced that ignoring what had happened with Heather was a good idea, but he didn’t think now was the time to dig deeper with Gaia—and he didn’t know who else to turn to.
So yeah, it made perfect sense for Ed to be thinking about Gaia in the context of a concerned friend, to be sure. He’d have to be a coldhearted freak not to notice when his ex-best friend/girlfriend/who the hell knew what suddenly went from being crouching tiger to being afraid of her own shadow. But as for what to do about it, he had no idea whatsoever.
“Ed, your call,” Kai admonished, her voice breaking into his reverie.
“Huh? What?” It took Ed a minute to recover from his little internal monologue. Smooth, Fargo, he told himself as he frantically swept cookie crumbs from the bedspread to the floor. “Here. All clean.”
“Right, ’cause I’m such a neat freak,” she said, smiling. “Forgot the crumbs. Obviously you were totally captivated by what I was just saying. Listen: big-decision time. Daytime television gives us two choices: you’ve got soaps or talk shows. Your call.”
And that was just it. Plain and simple. Kai always made the choices easy for him. But it didn’t make him feel any more for her. It didn’t make her… Gaia.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Re: Prom attire
So—
Just saw the cutest dress ever at BCBG SoHo during lunch. I put it on hold. Wanna come after school to check it out? Would love a second opinion.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Re: Re: Prom attire
Totally. Can’t wait. But don’t you think it’ll be hard to, like, totally get into the spirit of prom and graduation and stuff with all of the serious stuff going on lately? I mean, Ed in the hospital and t
hat creepy “Droog” violence? It freaks me out.
And speaking of creepy, just saw Gaia Moore in her usual sweats du jour—big change from the little black dress of Wednesday night, you know? I mean, could someone please get the girl a brush? Tell me what a hottie like Jake Montone—who clearly understands the importance of personal grooming—sees in a girl like that? I’m still thinking we should plan a little low-level revenge since she did lie to us about the party—whether everyone else is into it or not.
Anyway, let’s meet on the steps after last period. I need caffeine if I’m going to keep my strength up shopping.
LOCAL DROOGS ENGAGE IN A LITTLE OF THE OLD ULTRAVIOLENCE
IV heads, or “Droogs,” as they are coming to be known by the media, may have a new way of getting their fix. The next wave of testosterone highs comes from an “Orange,” so named because it comes in the form of a tab stamped with small orange polka-dot icons. These “Oranges” are the most concentrated form of IV available, and those who’re hooked are acting out Clockwork Orange style—that is to say, indulging in a little of the old ultraviolence. IV almost completely inhibits fear, leaving those who’ve taken it free to wreak havoc around town in the form of pranks—some harmless, some less so. Police report that vandalism is up 12 percent since Oranges hit the scene and petty burglary 22 percent. Washington Square Park, sources report, has been heavily hit, and it is recommended that Village School students avoid the park after sundown.
“You don’t want to be out in the park—or even anywhere near there—once the sun is down,” Sergeant Mike Donovan warns. “The Droogs aren’t like other JDs. They’re more like serious addicts. Which means dangerous with a capital D. They’re not afraid of anything.”
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